Up from the ashes roaring
like a phoenix we should rise,
scraping our hopes on the underside of freedom,
building our dreams, simple in the bold bright promise
of pockets one day filling.
an urgent Congress passes laws
designed to keep us wary
designed to keep us safe
designed to keep us
Shift our attention to strengthening our borders,
good fences make good neighbors.
Ron Paul cautions that fences can also be used to keep people in.
America, America, God shed his grace on thee.
Spending spins out of control,
now the people’s pockets empty.
Dignity falters and my spirit grows sad,
disheartened at the discontent
of congressional impasse.
Jolted into unimaginable debt,
we can’t even balance our budget.
My country ‘tis of thee
letting the rich run free
cut through those loopholes
that bind the greater we.
I am not so naïve to think that restoring equity to America’s tax system is the only thing that will solve her budget woes, but the resistance of the rich gets under my skin. Warren Buffet (the third richest man in the world) illuminates the inequity of the American tax system to a group of his peers, “The 400 of us [here] pay a lower part of our income in taxes than our receptionists do, or our cleaning ladies, for that matter. If you’re in the luckiest 1 per cent of humanity, you owe it to the rest of humanity to think about the other 99 per cent.” Thank you, Mr. Buffet. Unfortunately, the Republican ruled Congress does not agree with him. It makes me so dang angry, that I wrote two pieces….this one was the second, but my favorite of the two. My intent was to go somewhere else with disheartened spirit, but either the words or my muse would not steer clear of the topic.
I think a great deal of what Ron Paul says makes sense. However, he would not raise the taxes of the rich, stating on David Letterman that they “already pay their fare share.”
If you want to read the first piece I wrote with this week’s Sunday Whirl words, it follows.
Hang the Rich
Build a nation
then cut it down,
jolt it into modern nows.
Curtail false dignity
inflating bold ideation
roaring over the burdens
pausing passersby for pennies
(pennies!) in the street.
Pockets of people
starve and scrape.
Pockets of people
grow deep beneath loopholes
emboldened by the headiness of wealth.
Other faces puff up over dollar signs
faces that purchase control
faces that face an urgent
“we the people” smiling through their teeth.
dancing in the glory of their shining yellow gold.
“Political language is designed to make lies sound truthful and
murder respectable, and to give an appearance of solidity to pure wind.”